


Some by Virtue Fall

by Dacro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Meddling, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dacro/pseuds/Dacro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco knows what he desires. However, a binding ceremony, an old school-mate and an unborn child stand in his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story for accioslash from a bunny that she gave me. 
> 
> This is a bit of a angsty fic, but it is ultimately a romance (with quite a few bumps along the way).

Severus looked up at the soft knock on the door.

“Enter,” He said flatly, placing his book down on the small round table beside his favourite reading chair. He stood and smoothed both hands down the front of his black robes. Sitting for some time had made them more rumpled-looking than he would have liked, especially now that it seemed he would be having company.

Harry wouldn’t have knocked.

“Professor?” 

One pale hand with long flawless fingers wrapped around the edge of the door, pushing it forward into the room. Its owner followed.

Snape had already identified the voice and was making his way across the room.

“Come in, Draco.”

“Thank you, sir,” Draco said heartily, stepping through the frame and accepting the hand being offered him.

“You look well. Your year away seems to have agreed with you.” 

Severus took a moment to take in the changes of the young man in front of him. He was slightly taller than when he had last been seen at Hogwarts and his light hair much longer, fanning out on the dark fabric that covered his shoulders. He looked so much like his father except for the light freckles that dusted his forehead and the bridge of his nose. Severus supposed that avoiding the sun in India would be a challenging task, even for a Malfoy.

“Thank you, Professor.” Draco looked down for a moment, colour staining the skin around his collar.

“Let’s dispense with the formalities now that you’re no longer a Hogwarts student. Please, call me Severus.” He reached for Draco’s elbow and steered him toward the two soft chairs by the fire.

“Agreed,” Draco laughed softly. “But I hope to be studying with you again soon, that is, if your offer still stands.”

“I would like nothing better.” He pointed to the chair Harry normally occupied. “Please have a seat. Tea?” 

Draco sat and nodded politely. 

Something leaning against Draco's chair caught Severus' attention. He hid his surprise as Draco's fingers played with the silver head of the cane that once belonged to Lucius. Severus turned toward the small table beside his own chair.

“I haven’t taken on an apprentice in five years, not since the disaster that was Tavis McClaren.” Snape shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to gently shake away the horrid memory. “I’m delighted you consider Potions a worthy discipline, and I know your talent will be an asset to future research.”

“Again, thank you, Sir.”

Snape turned back from removing his book from the table and raised an eyebrow.

Draco quickly corrected himself. “Severus. Thank you.”

“Better,” Snape said with a faint smirk while Draco smiled warmly. 

Draco took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale all the air in the dungeons. “It’s good to be home.” He lifted his head and his smile changed slightly.

“Indeed. And how was India?”

“Too populated, too chaotic and too damn hot for my tastes.” He finished with a slight frown, and then looked up, as if he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. “Sorry, I…”

Snape chuckled. “No need for apologies. I asked, and you answered honestly.”

“Well, if you really want honesty…” Draco tipped his head as Severus leaned forward. “It was the filthiest place I have ever been. The moment I arrived, I was instantly making arrangements for another international port key home as soon as they had one available.”

“What made you stay?” Snape asked, sinking back into his favourite chair.

“The magic, and later, the people.”

Snape nodded silently. "When you've settled in, I would like to hear more about your travels. You were always an excellent storyteller."

Draco closed his eyes briefly and tilted his head down, in a show of respect. "Thank you." When he looked up again, Severus noticed pale pink spreading toward the light hair line. "Well, we'll certainly have plenty of time together in the coming months. I think I have enough tales of India to last all five years of my apprenticeship."

"Salazar help us both," Snape teased, shaking his head before looking again at Draco. "I can make arrangements with Dumbledore for your new living quarters after we’re finished here, if you like.”

“Already have done,” Draco said with a smirk, seemingly becoming more comfortable in the conversation.

Severus paused before sipping again at his tea, keeping his eyes on the young man. “Have you?” 

Draco nodded. “Dumbledore offered me a position at the school. He said it would keep me occupied during the days as well as providing me with ample study time and unlimited resources.”

“Librarian.” Snape nodded. "Albus told me at breakfast that he had found someone."

Draco nodded again, grinning. “I also figured the income would be useful for supplies and for whatever I cared to do in my leisure time. I’ve decided to start saving my family’s fortunes for the future. I’ve been given the librarian’s quarters, as well as the small living space across from your rooms for when we’re working.”

Severus nodded, impressed. “Excellent.”

Draco set down his empty tea cup. “Do you mind if I…” He pointed vaguely in the direction of the water closet.

“Be my guest.” 

Draco excused himself politely and headed for the open door on his right.

~*~

‘He’ll be ours soon,’ Draco whispered to his reflection, running his hands under the cool water. As he reached for the towel, he heard a familiar voice from his past mixing with Severus’. 

Draco cracked the door open a fraction and listened from the shelter of the door frame. He quite liked Severus’ new living quarters with its tall octagonal shape, perfectly placed hearth and warm, inviting chairs. There were also spectacular wrap-around book shelves above, separated only by a shallow balcony that conveniently cast a perfect shadow over Draco’s hiding spot.

“Insolent brat!” Snape hissed, keeping his voice fairly low. “Why have you kept me waiting all day?”

Draco turned his head and peered through the crack. ‘My, my,’ he thought to himself. ‘Potter has certainly come into his own.’ He took a moment to study the former waif who had brought down the Dark Lord. 

Potter was still half a head shorter than Snape, but from the back at least, seemed to have improved his posture and gained a bit of muscle. His hair was longer than Draco remembered, but it looked more as if he had skipped a haircut instead of wanting it that length by choice. It was still a dark mess, curling at the base of his neck and covering the tips of his ears. Draco still couldn’t see his face, but was rather enjoying this view of his former enemy. ‘Or are we still enemies?’ he mused.

“Answer me, Potter!” Snape demanded.

Draco tingled with delight as Severus stalked forward, stopping directly in front of the Gryffindor prat. Draco nearly choked when he heard two words calmly roll of Potter’s tongue.

“Make me.”

Silence fell over the room as Draco listened intently, holding his breath, waiting for the glorious explosion he knew would come. Potter was going to be reduced to putty, and Draco had a front row seat.

Both of Snape’s hands came up at once, pressing into the sides of Potter’s face. Long stained fingers wrapped around the edge of the jaw and pulled forward until their lips collided.

Their lips. 

This wasn’t a new kiss either, Draco noted. It was a competition, an on-going battle for dominance. There was unmistakeable passion. Draco had played that game before. He recognised the moves. He pulled back from the door, panting and furious. How was he supposed to fall into Snape’s bed if Potter was already soiling it? 

‘Goody-goody saviour of the world, POTTER! When the hell did this happen?’ Draco inwardly fumed. He pressed his eye back to the crack between the door and the frame. He could see both of them clearly now. He noticed that Potter was no longer wearing glasses, and his cheeks were flushed. Draco might have called it a beautiful scene if he hadn’t been so enraged.

“That was the best welcome yet,” Harry purred, pressing his cheek against Snape’s chest. Snape ran his fingers through the mop of hair.

“Mmm…I’m in a good mood.”

Harry looked up with a playful smile. “Lucky me.”

“Brat. I have company.”

“Yes, you do.” 

“Not you.” Snape gave a short chuckle. “He’s in the bathroom.” 

“Should I be jealous?” Harry asked, his nose wrinkling slightly.

Draco took in a deep breath, slid his mask into place, and glided into the main room as Potter was studying the face of his lover.

“I thought you liked competition, Potter.” 

Draco heard Snape laughing softly as he continued to watch Harry for a reaction. Harry’s gaze flew from Draco to Severus with lighting speed, face blank and pale.

“Relax, Potter, I’m here on business.”

Snape gave Harry a reassuring pat on the back and kissed the top of his forehead. Harry accepted, but pulled back rather quickly, as if having Draco watch them together unnerved him. He stuck out his hand stiffly toward Draco.

“Welcome back, Malfoy,” Harry managed, sounding somewhere in-between shocked and sceptical. Draco took his hand and smirked.

Severus cleared his throat. “I forgot to mention earlier, but Harry and I have been together since last July. I sent you an invitation to the binding ceremony, but we never received a response.”

“I’m...I'm sorry I missed it. I refused all post after leaving Hogwarts. Pansy’s daily letters begging me to come home were getting annoying.”

“I imagine.” Snape’s dark eyes sparkled for a moment.

Harry’s expression softened slightly and Draco noticed that the warm glow still lingered on his cheeks. He continued watching as Severus gently squeezed Harry's shoulder while speaking softly to him.

“Draco has returned to Hogwarts to continue his studies and to fill the position of Librarian.”

“Really?” Harry asked as Draco nodded. “Well, at least you know about books. The last substitute librarian nearly burned the place down trying to organize the restricted section.”

“Yes, Dumbledore has been unable to find a suitable replacement since Madame Pince relocated to Egypt last fall.” Snape added

Harry looked back at Draco. “What are you studying?”

“I’m apprenticing to become a Potions Master,” Draco said with an air of importance, silently praising himself for the look of shock on Potter’s face.

“And about time,” Snape added as Harry closed his jaw. “He’s taking the rooms across the hall.” He added matter-of-factly.

“Well, then I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of you.” He gave a weak smile. ”Sorry for my reaction before…I’ve been fighting with mood swings lately.” He shared a significant look with Severus, then turned back to face Draco. “My hormones have been on a jealousy kick all day.”

“Harry’s carrying our first child,” Snape offered, sounding proud and protective. "Five months today."

It was Draco’s turn to sputter as the blood drained from his face and his eyes darted to Harry’s slightly rounded stomach. ‘Pregnant!’ His brain screamed. “Umm…then I suppose congratulations are in order.” 

Snape nodded in acceptance. Harry blushed deeper.

“Thank you.” Harry whispered.

Draco’s heart ripped in two as he ordered his face to smile back at them.

~*~

He maintained his cool exterior until he reached his rooms at the back of the library and had safely thrown into place every locking and silencing spell he knew. He flung his cloak violently onto a chair by the door and stomped over to his wardrobe mirror. He glared at his pitiful reflection, noticing that he was becoming blotchier by the minute. Finally, he exploded.

"FUCKING…” He kicked over the bedside table. “…PREGNANT!" 

The mirror mentioned something about 'foul language not being permitted' two seconds before Draco taught it how to fly. Several of the small shards rebounded and came after him, leaving a few shallow cuts across the backs of his hands and one, just a bit deeper, under his bottom lip. He continued to storm around the room, taking his anger out on everything within reach of his bloodied hands before giving up and falling face down on the bed, screaming his fury into the ruined sheets.

It took a few minutes to calm himself before he had desire enough to sit up, heal his cuts, and survey the ruin of his room. He flicked his wand a few times causing everything to return to its proper place, fully restored. He finished with a silencing charm on the newly-righted mirror.

He fell with a heavy sigh back onto his bed and sneered to himself when he considered what his father would have thought of his recent outburst. "It doesn’t matter. You're not here to punish me anyway, are you?" he whispered to the stone above him. "Or maybe this _is_ my punishment." Draco rolled to his side and bent one knee to half-lay across the covers. "Somehow you've arranged for Potter to stand in the way of everything I want - as payment for my disloyalty to you," he hissed the last word bitterly under his breath. "Father."

The energy he had spent on destroying and righting his room had left him, and he was beginning to feel the cool fall air pushing through the tiny gaps in the wall. Shivering, he picked up his wand, cast a warming spell on the summer clothes he was wearing, and lit a fire.

"I'm not giving up so easily this time. Severus deserves to be with me." 

Draco sat up and started working on his shirt buttons, scowling down at them. "Why didn't anyone stop them?” he asked no one, shaking both hands in the air, as if pleading his case to the bed curtains. He rolled his eyes and raised his voice to sound like his mother’s. “Oh, a binding ceremony, you don’t say? What a lovely idea!” He continued his rant as he removed his shirt and hung it over the footboard of the bed. "Why was everyone suddenly just so happy and supportive of the sick little couple? They’ve all gone mad." He undid the top button of his trousers, and removed them as well. "Seven years of hating each other and instantly they're fucking soul mates?" Opening the wardrobe, he selected a long cream-coloured cotton garment that he quickly pulled over his head. He had hidden in his room long past dinner time, and he reasoned that he might as well meditate before bed, or else brood for a little longer. He exhaled loudly again and made his choice.

"Listen to me. I sound like a child." Shaking his head, he settled onto the warm rug by the hearth, crossing his bare legs underneath him. He rested the backs of his hands lightly against his knees and slowed his breathing. His mind was buzzing with so much negative energy that he found his task impossible. "Think of a solution," he whispered to the crackling flames in front of him, but they gave him no answer.

Suddenly he leapt to his feet and quickly crossed the room to where he had thrown his cloak. Just as he hoped, his father's cane was missing. He had left it propped against the chair he had been sitting in during his visit with Snape. "Seems a few of the gods still smile on me, Father. How unfortunate for you," Draco taunted through a victorious smile as he sat back down in front of the fire once again.

In India, he had grown accustomed to the intense heat and need for lighter clothing. Returning to Hogwarts felt like entering a cave. Everything was much more damp and dark then he remembered. But inching forward towards the flames, he almost found the warmth and peace he had be craving since he left Madurai as he sent his mind back to recall some of the lessons taught to him by the ancient Holy Wizards on the sacred ground of their temples. He started a sequence of low, haunting cries, in the closest form of Tamil that his English tongue would allow, pleading the old magic in the castle to connect with him.

It responded instantly when he pressed his palms into the gritty stone on either side of the round mat. He threw his head back, feeling his pulse quicken as energy slithered up his arms making a home for itself in the microscopic space between his skin and the pale hair covering his shaking body. He fought to control his breathing and the new power he was slowly getting used to. He pressed his palms together in front of his chest, lowering his head so that his nose almost touched his fingertips. 

His song died to a soft, drawn-out hum as he steadied his tremors and visualized walking back through the library, along the halls, down the stairs and through the thick wall into Severus' living quarters. He stopped when the cane was in sight and he willed his mind to embrace the object.

"Obtineo!" 

For a moment everything went black, then flashes of light and blurry shapes appeared through a green filter in front of his eyes. He patted the stone and bit of carpet under him, feeling the floor of his own room. But instead of seeing the flames of the fire, he was looking at Severus and Potter through the emerald eyes of the silver serpent head of his father's cane.

He could also hear Snape's quill as he marked assignments, and smell the candy that Harry was sucking on, but he didn't know how that was possible. The few other times he had forced his spirit into objects; it had been silent, cold, and strange. This felt strange as well, but a good strange, a justifiable strange. This time he had more power to play with, and a good reason to play.

Now he would watch as long as he could maintain focus, hoping a simple solution to his 'Potter problem' would present itself.

Potter moved from where he had been looking out at the moon to stand behind Severus, a flat wooden brush in his hand. Draco watched as Harry slid the brush effortlessly through Severus' shoulder-length black hair down to the ends and then back again to the top.

'Dark hair to match dark eyes,' Draco thought to himself as he worshiped from his new hiding place.

Harry started humming a tune as he brushed, but Severus shushed him gently.

"Quiet for just a moment longer. I promise this is the last of them." He pointed to the final paper on the desk, looking over his shoulder at Harry who gave a silent, respectful nod and continued his brushing once Snape had turned around again. 

Draco could tell Harry was savouring this moment, eyes closed, skilfully working over familiar terrain. It almost looked like part of their daily ritual. Yes, he imagined they played out this little scene every night. 'Damn newlyweds,' Draco's stinging heart echoed his bitterness. 

Draco brought himself out of his depressing musings and focused on the slowly moving image before him. Severus continued scratching out biting comments on student parchment while silence stretched between himself and his lover - husband, easy and comfortable. The well-worn quill fell to the tabletop after Harry set the brush down on the desk, just within Severus' view. Draco swallowed as Severus tilted his face up, leaning back into his chair. 

Harry's fingers replaced sable. 

The deep moan from Severus instantly transformed every inch of Draco's skin into gooseflesh, and he whimpered without meaning to.

Harry wound his fingers in and out of the dark strands, moving in small circles as he explored every inch. Draco bit his bottom lip and watched as Harry's breathing slowed to match the rise and fall of Severus' chest. 

Without warning, Severus’ left arm flew around to grasp Harry’s right elbow, spinning him around then pulling him quickly, but gently, into his lap. Harry moved his hands back into the dark hair as Severus moaned again, moving forward to suck on the close skin of Harry’s neck. Draco fought back a nasty hiss as his enemy flushed and pushed most of his body willingly against the object of Draco’s desire.

"That's mine, Potter!" Draco's words bounced around his bedroom, three floors above where his mind was watching this cruel play.

Harry moved his hands to Severus’ shoulders and pushed down while he moved his legs to either side of the chair and rolled his lower body wantonly against his panting lover, eyes shining with an unspoken challenge.

Severus looked liked he had found the back door to heaven as Harry, his fingers digging into Severus’ shoulders, quickly increased the friction between them. Draco felt ill until he noticed Snape’s look of ecstasy transform into wide-eyed sudden shock.

He pushed out against Harry’s hips. “Gently, love.” 

Harry, out of breath and smirking, placed his glasses on the desk then pushed past Severus’ grip and continued rocking their clothed bodies together. “I’m fine. I don’t want to stop.”

Snape pushed again, this time anger flared in his eyes, and confusion and hurt swam in Harry’s.

“Stop! You’ll injure the child!” Severus snapped. Draco saw a flash of pain in Harry’s expression as he pushed up on his legs and stood, glaring at his husband.

“Sit on the desk, Harry.” Severus’ voice was cold and sharp.

Harry matched his tone. “No.”

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not playing games with you. Get on the desk. I want to perform some tests.”

“Are you deaf? I said NO!” Harry pushed his words through clenched teeth. Severus’ hand flew, but stopped a mere centimetre from contact with Harry’s face before Draco had even noticed the movement. 

‘Now this is more like it,’ Draco silently rejoiced, loving that everything wasn’t all roses and monogrammed towels for the lovers. 

Harry hadn’t even flinched at the sudden attack. “This is going to stop now, Severus!” He stomped his foot down in warning. Harry gestured down the length of his body. “Neither one of us is made of glass…” Severus shifted and opened his mouth to protest, but Harry raised a palm and continued, his tone softening with each second that passed. “I know you love us both, but your protectiveness is - too much for me.”

Snape had collapsed back into his chair as Harry reached a shaking hand out to cup his face. “I know how much you want this child. I won’t mess this up for us, I promise.” At Harry’s touch, Snape closed his eyes and pressed his skin into the waiting palm. “I’m young and healthy, and the healer said this kind of…” Harry blushed when Snape raised his eyes. “… _activity_ is fine until the last few months. I asked.” Draco swore himself a sonnet as Harry blushed deeper. Severus stood to embrace him.

“Forgive me. I’ve never been a father before...” He pushed Harry back slightly so they could look at each other. “…or a husband.” Harry smiled softly and raised his mouth to Severus’, communicating the silent forgiveness.

Draco choked on the air that was suddenly in a hurry to escape his lungs as his mind abruptly pulled out of the cane, back through the wall, wound around the castle stairs, and slammed back into Draco’s convulsing body.

“Oh yes,” he hissed. “Still enemies.” 

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

"May I have a word?" Draco asked from the doorway.

A slightly shocked-looking Harry looked up from his paper-littered desk. "I’m sorry. Severus is at the Ministry today." He offered, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

Draco smiled softly. "No, I wanted to speak with you, if you have a moment." 

"Um...ok. Just have a seat and I'll be back in a second." He stood quickly. "I've been drinking tea all morning so I better make a run to the…" He blushed nervously. "Oh, do you want some?" Harry pointed at the steaming pot.

"No, thank you." Draco took the chair opposite the desk.

"All right. Be back in a moment." Harry tripped on his cloak in his haste to leave the room.

Draco congratulated himself on managing to stay calm while most of what made him a Malfoy wanted to push Potter out the window for taking what was rightfully his. He decided to occupy his mind instead with studying the mess that was Potter's office. 

The window behind the desk overlooked the greenhouses and the area where most of the school owls preferred to stretch their wings. A pillow and blanket lay folded neatly on the wide ledge. The desk itself was cluttered with files and scrolls, a small cauldron full of quills, and another that seemed to be filled with tiny wands made of different types of wood. On the far left corner of the desk stood a silver picture frame with its back to him. He reached forward to inspect it further.

It was what he thought it would be; a picture of the 'perfect' couple on their binding day. He almost threw it against the wall, but then quickly reminded himself of where he was, and who was soon to be making his way back from the loo. If his plan was going to work, he had to keep up appearances. He took a deep breath, and then looked once more at the object in his hand. 

The picture was taken in the hospital wing, of all places, and there were a few people fussing about, wandering in and out of the frame. But the couple in the middle remained still, facing each other, hands and eyes locked and ignoring the movement all around them. Draco's heart ached as he watched their faces. They weren't smiling fake smiles for their friends and relatives like so many other couples do on their wedding day. No, they weren’t smiling at all. Harry was quietly searching Severus’ eyes, communicating without words. Content, and in love.

"Shit." He cursed under his breath.

As if to further mock Draco's obvious discomfort, the couple under the glass closed their eyes and kissed deeply, with no trace of shame or embarrassment. Something was burning the walls of Draco's throat, but he couldn't swallow it away this time. 

"He was looking for you most of the day, hoping you'd walk in fashionably late."

Draco tensed and stopped himself from jumping at the sound of Harry's voice so close over his shoulder.

"What? He was?" Draco sputtered, pushing the picture back at Harry who took it and moved once again to his chair behind the desk, wiping Draco's fingerprints off of the frame.

"Well, let's just say that of the friends he has, most of them were less than thrilled that had chosen to bind himself to a former student and the one responsible for destroying most of their families. He didn't have much support."

Draco tried to collect himself. "I would have come, had I known." He shrugged his shoulders. "You're not the person I imagined him with, but I respect his choice." Draco swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.

Harry blinked. "Um...thank you."

Draco leaned back in his chair and tilted his head. “Does it bother you that he wanted me there?” 

Harry shrugged and started biting on a thumb nail. “Not really. To be honest, I thought you’d show up too.” 

Draco tried to hide his surprise by tucking his long hair behind an ear. “And why did you think that?” There was enough of a pause that Draco forgot about his grooming and looked back to Harry, whose eyes were turned down to the desk.

“Because you’re one of the only people I know who really cares for him other than Albus, Minerva and me.” He spoke so softly, but Draco had clearly heard everything that Harry had said - and didn't say.

Draco nodded slowly. “Yes..." he drawled. "I've known him since I was old enough to crawl into my father's study. I respect him, and I owe him my life."

Something dark flashed behind Harry's eyes and Draco took notice. Harry suddenly looked like he had a hundred places to be all at once, but his eyes darted about as if he didn't know which direction he should be going.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Malfoy? I need to get back to work."

"Please." Draco leaned forward as his warm voice floated his request through the air. "Call me Draco." 

The look on Harry's face was one of quiet disgust.

"I'm sorry, but I can't," Harry answered flatly. Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Harry was no longer watching him. "Maybe you can come by later, when Severus is back tonight. We'll all talk together." Harry started to flip randomly through several files at once until finally knocking one onto the floor with his elbow. Dozens of children's photographs scattered. 

"Damn," Harry cursed, placing a hand on the desk for balance as he lowered himself onto his knees.

Before he knew what he was doing, Draco was crouching beside him and reaching for his hand. At the touch, Harry's wide, suspicious eyes found Draco's.

"I didn't mean to upset you. Call me what you like. We do have a lot of - unpleasant history." He took his hand away to collect a picture or two from the floor.

Harry sighed and rested back against his feet. "Exactly. Doesn't this feel weird to you? We've never had a civil conversation before."

Draco grinned. "We've never had common ground before."

Harry stared at him, and Draco knew he had won this battle. 

"Severus," Harry whispered as Draco nodded.

Draco decided to end their bonding there and change the subject before losing his lunch. He picked up a few more photographs and did his best to look insulted when one little girl stuck her tongue out at him. He heard Harry chuckle beside him.

“She’s a handful, that one. Reminds me a lot of you, actually.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “What is it exactly that you _do_ , Potter?” He asked, getting up off his knees and brushing dust off his trousers. "Are you selling children to keep Severus in Potion supplies?”

Harry laughed as he put the last photo back into the file, and accepted Draco’s hand to help him up off of the floor.

“Thanks.” Harry gave him a nervous smile again. Draco knew that his kind behaviour was confusing Harry, but that was the way he wanted it.

When he was settled back in his chair, Harry poured himself a fresh cup of tea and this time Draco accepted one for himself.

"I work in Muggle Relations."

Draco shot him a playful smirk. "Of course you do." He watched Harry roll his eyes.

"I started up an organization with Seamus and Hermione that identifies wizards and witches who are born into Muggle families."

"Doesn't Hogwarts already have that type of thing?"

"Yes," Harry said, nodding. "But the parents aren't notified until the child is sent their letter. Both the child and the parents have to deal with so much information in a short period of time. The school 'takes their child away’ and they're often left with a lot of questions."

"Interesting. I've never really thought too much about what Muggle parents thought about Hogwarts."

"Well, our job is to go visit the home several years before it's time for Hogwarts and try to prepare the family for interacting with the Wizarding world their child will be a part of. Next, we provide advice and education for the child and help the parents and siblings adapt to what having a witch or wizard in the family means." 

Draco listened patiently as Potter babbled, taking notice of the unmistakeable passion behind the words.

"I see. What are those for?" Draco pointed to the miniature wands on the desk.

"Oh. We try to figure out the child's skills even before they get here, so we experiment with different wands, and a few simple spells to identify their strengths, and prepare them for meeting other Wizarding folk."

"So you're not under the Ministry?"

"No," Harry answered quickly. "We're independent and non-profit." Draco quietly choked on his tea. "The Ministry has a slightly different view on sharing information with Muggles."

"I would imagine." Draco moved a scrap of paper, placed his mostly-empty cup down on the desk and started to rise. "Well, first day of classes tomorrow, so I need to resume organizing the library and start preparing myself for life at the head table. Thank you for the visit, and the tea." He nodded politely.

Harry stood as well. Draco delighted in the fact that he saw several different emotions all battling for position on Harry's face. 'Gryffindors trust too quickly, and forgive too readily. This is going to be easier than I thought.'

"Wait. Didn't you have something you wanted to talk to me about?" Harry asked, wrinkling his brow.

Draco smiled. "It can wait until tomorrow." He took a few steps toward the door, paused then looked back over his shoulder at Harry. "We could have lunch. Do you work from here?"

Harry's face dropped slightly. "I do now. Severus doesn't want me to Apparate to the office anymore." He rubbed slow circles over his stomach.

"Fine then, lunch tomorrow, here." Without waiting for a reply, Draco swept out of the room and headed to his own for a few celebratory drinks. 

"You have a dangerous weakness, Potter," Draco whispered under his breath as he made his way through the empty library. "It's a shame your dogfather won't be around to lick your wounds when I'm done with you." A vicious sneer played across his lips. 

~*~

"Your extracting skills with the goat's heart are remarkable, Draco." 

Severus watched his new apprentice expertly drain the slippery organ with ease. He no longer had the steady hands required for such delicate work, but not even the former Dark Lord could have pulled that confession from his lips with any amount of torture. No. He was giving Draco the 'opportunity' to 'assist' in the privilege of adding blood to a rather difficult potion that he required.

Draco's eyes flicked for an instant up to meet Snape's own. "Thank you, Severus." 

"I appreciate your willingness to come, Draco. I know you must have other responsibilities to attend to in the library tonight." He moved to a back shelf, removed the medium jar of Lothum's Fungus and began measuring the portion needed.

"It's my pleasure. I did most of my work this afternoon, so I believe I'm as prepared for tomorrow as I can be at this point." 

A bit of Draco’s hair escaped and fell across his eyes. With his hands soiled and occupied, he tried tossing his head, but the offending strands refused to stay in place. Severus fought back a laugh as Draco tried blowing the hair away, but only succeeded in lifting the pale wisps a few inches before they stubbornly fell back and stuck to the sweat forming on his lightly freckled nose. He growled in frustration.

Severus reached out and brushed the hair away, securing it again behind his right ear. Draco closed his eyes as the hair slid across his skin, and Severus was struck again by the beauty produced by the Malfoy line. He looked so much like his cold-hearted father, but had his mother’s captivating grace and elegance. ‘Yes,’ Severus thought, ‘If Lucius had been poison, then Draco surely was the antidote.’

Severus let his hand dwell against the feather-soft hair for a moment, longer than he intended, but it didn’t seem as if Draco was alarmed or offended. In contrast, he looked at ease and almost hungry for the contact. He had been without the touch of a loving father for some time, and perhaps needed Severus to fill that void as well. ‘But would a father’s hand continue to linger, moving a thumb gently along the soft curve of a flushed ear? Perhaps not.’ He pulled his hand away.

"Make use of the prefects if you have need of them, Draco.” Severus said faintly. He cleared his throat when Draco’s eyes fluttered open again. “The evening after the first day of classes is chaos in the Library."

"Yes, I remember it well," Draco returned, quietly. "Thank you for the advice." His smile was soft and respectful.

They continued working, occasionally speaking of the welcoming feast a few hours before, the Sorting or about the new volumes Draco was thinking of adding to the library. For the most part, Severus would read out or prepare the next ingredient and Draco would do the labour, flawlessly. 

Severus peered over his apprentice’s shoulder. He was slightly more than impressed as he watched Draco stir the potion to the perfect consistency. "Your concentration is impressive and your skills have improved beyond my expectations."

Draco bowed his head politely. "I've discovered meditation has many benefits."

"Indeed." Severus reached for the potion book, momentarily trapping Draco between himself and the work table. ‘If only Harry had your talent and obedience,’ he silently wished, hoping he had imagined the soft gasp from Draco at the contact.

Draco reached for a towel and wiped the remaining blood off his hands. He then summoned a few containers and began bottling the potion, filling each vial with the accurate quantity. "May I ask why we are preparing _this_ protection potion?" Draco kept his eyes on his work.

Severus noticed the pink in Draco’s cheeks and felt a smile surface. "When there are spells that have eclipsed it? Very good, Draco. You continue to surprise me."

He shot Severus a smirk. "Was I being tested?"

"No, but this potion is a challenge, certainly. Can you guess why someone would choose to use an ancient potion instead of the simple and far superior Contego spell?"

Severus watched the crease of his brow as Draco closed his eyes momentarily in concentration. 

"Hmm... The protector is a squib and buys the potion instead of casting the spell?"

Severus couldn't help the light chuckle. "Possible, and creative, but the protector in this case is indeed a wizard capable of executing a protection charm."

Draco walked to the fireplace then suddenly looked up, victory in his eyes. "There are two other options I can think of."

"Continue."

"If the person being protected was perhaps ill, or if they were only half-human, Contego may not work properly, or might somehow harm them."

"Very good, and the second?"

Draco pressed a palm against the warm stone of the mantle. "When Contego is cast, the recipient 'feels' protected immediately and it connects the caster and recipient.” He played with the clasp on his robes. “The potion, however, has its roots in blood magic, dark magic. It maintains its potency even when mixed with food or drink, so you could use it to protect them without their knowledge. They would feel nothing."

"Excellent. Both of those theories are correct in this case. The potion is to be administered without the individual's knowledge, and it is not safe to use a powerful protection spell on their body at this time."

Draco turned to face the fire. "It's for Potter," he said, without emotion.

"It is." Severus confirmed.

Draco continued to stare at the fire while he removed his robe and tossed it on the chair beside him. "I know this doesn't concern me, but can I ask the reason for not telling him?"

Severus wasn’t entirely surprised by the question, but on the other hand, wasn’t completely comfortable with it either. "You may.” He moved to the chair opposite Draco’s cloak and sat, staring at the curve of back muscles barely visible under Draco’s cream-coloured cotton shirt. 

“I want to protect both him and the child, but he believes that I am worrying needlessly. That, and his Gryffindor pride keeps assuring him he is strong enough and young enough to _not_ heed my advice.” He felt himself frowning, but quickly changed to a neutral expression when Draco suddenly turned to face him, smiling.

“Sounds like Potter.” He tucked another strand of hair back. “He always believed he was above the rules. No offence, Sir.” He pushed his robe aside and took a seat. Severus noticed his face was glowing pink from the heat of the fire. “Do you think someone is trying to harm him?” 

“Not specifically. However…” Severus moved his upper body forward and lowered his voice. “If he were to be attacked, he is unable to defend himself.” 

Draco leaned forward as well. He dropped the mask that hid emotion from Severus, and seemed to be looking at him with concern like a friend, or a loved one. 

“Unable? Do you really believe that?” Draco asked with interest in his eyes.

Severus sat back again and rolled his shoulders. “He is capable, but not able.”

Draco crossed his legs and settled back against his chair, shooting Severus a puzzled expression for a few moments. He sat up again quickly, his eyes growing wide. He raised a finger in the air. “It has something to do with the baby!” Draco exclaimed. Snape nodded. “The child is…” Draco pulled a hand through his hair. It fell back into place perfectly, unlike what Harry’s looked like after a similar action. “…affected by magic?”

“Sensitive,” Severus corrected, impressed. “But only when Harry is casting.”

Draco’s eyes were still wide with fascination. “What are the side effects?” 

Severus closed his eyes and shuddered as the memories of the first few months of Harry's pregnancy danced before his eyes. “It makes him violently ill.”

Draco tilted his head in thought. “Yes, I’ve read about witches with that condition. It usually means that child is a…” Draco stopped himself before saying ‘Squib’, but it rang in Severus’ ears like a bell, regardless.

“Perhaps not,” Severus offered. “Madame Pomfrey and the Headmaster believe the reason may lie with the extent of Harry’s power. His magic may be too much for the child, so his body has created a defence system to protect them both.” 

“Of course,” Draco said softly, and then was quiet for quite some time. 

“Since it is not practical or possible to keep watch over him constantly, the potion will trigger this amulet to generate heat if someone touches him.” He opened his hand, revealing the cool object resting in his palm.

“Someone other than you?”

“Yes.”

Draco turned back and stared at the flames dancing in the hearth. Severus watched him for a moment before realizing why the mood between them had suddenly changed.

"Would you like to ask, or should I just tell you?" he asked gently.

Draco snapped out of his contemplation and stared blankly at Snape, in a very un-Malfoy-like way. “Ask? I wasn’t…” He swallowed, and then closed his mouth.

"It’s all right, Draco. I've been expecting it for some time."

Draco bit his lip, nodded once, and then looked back into the flames. "Why Potter?” He asked in a near-whisper. “You hated him."

“Some days I still do,” Severus responded, wearing a thin smile.

Draco snorted out a short laugh. “It’s quite a far leap from ‘enemy’ to ‘man who’s carrying your child’.” He looked off into the corner, and lowered his voice. “How could one year possibly have cancelled out seven?”

Severus turned his thoughts to the berating he had given himself when he first discovered the feelings that had developed for Harry, before finally surrendering to a battle he was never going to win. “I had a change of perspective.”

Draco twisted his index finger until a knuckle cracked. “How?”

“Two months in the infirmary.” Severus said, as if that were answer enough, although he knew Draco deserved to hear more. 

“I saw the picture." Draco's words were sharp and his emotions were tucked up again under his mask. "That’s where your binding ceremony was held.” 

"Yes.” Severus summoned two glasses and a bottle of wine. He filled and handed one glass to Draco. “What do you remember about the night the Dark Lord was defeated?”

The question seemed to confuse Draco for a moment, but then his face relaxed slightly. He took off his shoes and pulled his feet up onto the chair. 

"Not much. My cover was still intact and Voldemort sent Wormtail and I to secure Hogsmeade. You had gone to Hogwarts with my father to drop the wards.” He took a sip of his wine. “I remember setting the Three Broomsticks on fire and then hearing a crack, like the sound of a whip.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall against the back of the chair. “The sky suddenly went from black to a blinding white, bright as day. It lasted longer than lightning or the regular duelling flashes. I could barely keep my eyes open. Wormtail screamed as if someone was ripping his heart out, and then he dropped dead at my feet.” 

Draco outwardly winced, paused and took another drink. 

“And after?”

Draco turned his head to the side. “I assumed Potter had done the job, so I Apparated home and my mother told me that my father, along with the other marked Death Eaters were dead." He took a breath. "She shoved a Portkey into my hand, and then I was gone."

He swallowed hard and placed his empty glass down on the table. Severus spotted the slight tremble of his hand. 

“Next thing I know, a wave of heat is sucking my clothes to my skin, the stinking air hits my nostrils, there are chickens in the street - and I’m alone." He turned his face away and brushed the back of his hand under his eye.

Severus had been preparing himself to tell Draco about his relationship with Harry, but there seemed to be some unfinished business to attend to first. Without giving as much thought as he normally would have in a similar situation, he suddenly found himself down on one knee in front of Draco’s chair and was reaching for a pale hand.

“You thought I was dead.” Severus whispered.

Instantly, stunning wet-silver eyes were locked with his. Draco’s voice broke as he nodded. 

“I thought you were dead.”

Severus did nothing to stop himself as his palm came into contact with the flushed skin of Draco’s wet cheek. Draco pressed his eyes closed, causing tears to slide over Severus’ stained fingers.

Snape could only stare at the beautiful creature, until he remembered who normally occupied this same chair. “So did I.” He said softly.

Draco slowly opened his eyes and asked a thousand questions without saying a word. Severus thought he felt Draco moving forward.

“In fact…” He lowered his hand and patted Draco’s knee. “I thought we were all dead.” An image of Harry, white-faced and wandless, leapt into his mind. He moved back to his chair and refilled their glasses.

Draco seemed to realize the ‘moment’ was over and wiped quickly at his face, trying to compose himself. “What really happened?”

Severus cleared his throat. “The battle started out as they all do, total chaos. Instead of it building, however, I noticed that everyone was breaking off into smaller groups. Within a matter of minutes they had drifted away from the Dark Lord and Potter, and only Albus and I remained near them.”

Draco listened intently as Severus told what he remembered of the last few minutes of the battle. The memories were still surprisingly fresh and painful, so he skimmed over the emotional scenes when he could.

“Voldemort saw an opening and was able to disarm Potter and destroy his wand, but Albus had been ready. He Apparated his own wand to Harry.”

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Draco said, in awe.

Snape sipped from his wine glass, smiling over the rim. “I have learned never to underestimate the man.”

“I’ll have to remember that. What then?”

Severus swallowed, trying to dissolve the tightness in his throat. “Harry screamed out in pain just before Dumbledore’s wand exploded in a flash of light, the same light you saw from the village, which knocked out and blinded anyone in the vicinity. The closer to Potter, the worse it was.

Draco turned to face the fire again and whispered. “Two months in the infirmary.” 

“Yes.” Severus joined him in watching the flames. 

“What happened to the Headmaster?”

“The sly fox felt the swell of power when Potter’s fingers came in contact with the wood, so he protected himself and Apparated to a safe place until the light had faded.”

Draco scowled. “He ran.” 

Snape shook his head. “No, he couldn’t protect all three of us, so he chose to be the last one standing in the event of Harry failing, and Voldemort surviving. Potter succeeded, but he doesn’t remember how. None of us do.”

Draco shifted in his chair and flicked his eyes up to Severus’. “So, you were both blind?”

“Yes. Myself for one month, Harry for two. Albus told the press that Potter needed time to recover, but only a few select people knew the reason he wasn’t making public appearances.”

“That story wasn’t the one that was released. I didn’t read any of that.”

“Indeed. We threw a few scraps to the press, but allowed most of the reporters to find their own ‘key witnesses’ to fill in the blanks.”

“I see.” He paused. “Is that why you weren’t treated at St. Mungo’s?”

“Albus thought people would be alarmed and over-curious if Potter was there, yes.”

Draco played with a strand of hair. “Tell me about your recovery.”

Severus chuckled. “I’d like to say that I suffered in silence, but such is not the case.” He shared a smile with Draco. “I was useless, irritable, and more ill-tempered than usual.”

“Glad I was in India.” Draco teased.

Severus closed his eyes for a moment and tried to recall the memories and the sounds of the Hospital wing. “I’m ashamed to admit that Potter was the one who quickly accepted his fate, drank his potions, and rested as much as he could. I often forgot we were sharing the same space most of the time, except at night, when his screams shook the castle.”

“Pain?”

“No. He suffers from nightmares.” Severus rubbed his aching knuckles absently. “Most nights, Poppy would come running when she heard the noise, give him another potion, remind him not to rub his eyes and fuss over him until he was sleeping again.” Snape was quiet for a moment as he re-created the memory. “One night she didn’t come.”

“What happened?”

“I assumed the mature role and added my voice to the screaming.” He laughed and Draco couldn’t help but join him. “Potter refused to wake, and it didn’t seem even the house elves were going to respond at that point, so I got to my feet and followed the noise to Potter’s bed.”

“That would have been quite the scene.”

“Oh yes, I believe I employed every curse I knew while knocking into tables, chairs and stepping on a few sharp objects before finally reaching him.” Severus shot a mock-angry look at Draco who was laughing so hard he was forgetting to breathe.

“Sorry. What then?” Draco asked, trying to catch his breath.

Severus felt the laughter drain away like old bath water. He was strangely cold and uncomfortable as he stared again into the fire.

“I touched him…” Snape swallowed and paused while pushing through the memories that were flooding back to him. “He cried out and moved away, as if I had burned him. He was soaked in sweat and shaking so violently the bed rattled.”

He glanced over at Draco who was holding his breath. 

“I didn’t want to cause him any more pain, but I couldn’t let the screaming continue, so I did the one thing I hoped he would respond to.”

“You said his name,” Draco interrupted, quietly. “You called him Harry.”

Snape looked up at Draco, stunned. He was suddenly aware of the heat of the fire and the strange silence that filled the room.

Draco shrugged and explained. “It’s what I would have done.”

“It worked.” Severus said, softly. “He stopped screaming, woke up and searched until he found my hand. He fell asleep again while apologizing and endlessly thanking me.” Severus took a shaky breath. “To this day I don’t know my reasons, but I stayed there for the rest of the night, holding his hand and listening to the idiot breathe.”

Draco’s eyes wandered back to the fireplace. “That’s when you started caring for him?”

“That’s when I discovered that without my vision, I could no longer see his father’s face, or have to look into his mother’s eyes. I was beginning to see the brat for who he was, and I was curious to know more. After a few awkward days, we found that talking was our only real form of entertainment, and he slowly corkscrewed his way into my long forgotten heart.”

“So it wasn’t just - because he’s beautiful?” Draco asked, still looking like his mind was still floating somewhere in the story.

Snape went ridged in his chair. “No, but I am certain most think that was a contributing factor. That this old man must have somehow tricked poor, stunning Potter into the binding ceremony,” Severus mockingly spat out the bitter words in a high-pitched voice..

Draco sat up straight. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant to say.” He sputtered. “It - it was just a shock to find out about the two of you…”

Severus knew Draco was only being honest, but words struck truer than he cared to admit and his control rolled away like Hogwarts Express.

He glared at Draco. “A shock that someone would bind themselves to me, or the fact that it was Potter?" His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps _you_ wanted him first?”

“No! Severus, I didn’t…” Draco shook his head, staring up at the man who was now hovering over him

“Did you know that the binding was his idea? It was him who asked _me_! Did he tell you that?” He lowered his voice to a hiss as one long finger pointed to the door. “Leave me.”

Draco's expression was one of panic. “I’ll help you, Severus,” he quickly offered.

“What?” With his momentum stopped, Severus’ anger was instantly replaced with confusion.

“I’ll give him the potion tomorrow. I’ll help you protect him.” 

Snape sank back down in his chair, trying to remember when he had gotten out of it in the first place. He shook his head and looked at Draco, who was on his feet, panting.

“I’ll help.” He repeated.

Severus wasn’t certain of what to say, or what to think about the man in front of him who had just put up with his misplaced venom. “Thank you,” he muttered, rubbing the heal of his hand into his forehead. “I’m sorry I accused you…”

“No, it was my fault. I apologize.” Draco quickly put on his shoes and draped his robes over his arm.

“Quite the pair, aren’t we?” Severus chuckled dryly, not knowing if he was talking about himself and Draco, or himself and Harry.

“I’m meeting with him for lunch tomorrow.” Draco walked to the table and picked up a bottle of protection potion. “I’ll make sure he takes it.” He paused in front of Severus’ chair on his way to the door and laid a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly. "That way, if he ever finds out, _you_ will be blameless." 

There was a short pause as Snape allowed the sweet voice to settle over him. Draco's hand remained on his shoulder. There was another voice somewhere in the back of his mind that he was trying to ignore. If his hapless Gryffindor would have taken the proper precautions, then none of this sneaking would be necessary. In a twisted way, it really was all Harry's fault.

"He has a constant craving for garlic pickles. I'll have a jar sent up to your rooms." Severus moved slightly into Draco's touch and whispered, "Mix the potion in with the brine tonight and by tomorrow noon it will be ready."

Draco smiled down at him. "Consider it done. Goodnight, Severus.”

~*~


	3. Chapter 3

Draco arched an eyebrow at a first year Hufflepuff girl as she laid two books on the counter. " _World Famous Seekers_ , and _A History of Women in Quidditch_?" She nodded, staring at the floor. Draco swept his hand over each cover and a date appeared in red on the bottom right-hand corner. "How good are you?"

She looked up, eyes wide. "Sir?" she squeaked.

Draco rolled his eyes and raised his palms briefly to the ceiling. "Quidditch, girl!" He bent down to whisper in her ear. "Your reasons for wanting these books are as clear to me as your muddy shoes, bruised knees…” He reached for the fingers that rested on the larger of the two books and turned them over. “…and callused hands."

She took a step back and looked at him as if he possessed the 'Inner Eye', but gathered enough courage to respond. "I'm fast, and can get the snitch, but I'm too light."

Draco nodded. "Hmm... One bludger hit or knock by an opponent and you're off your broom?"

She blushed. "Or strong wind." 

"Small stones, no matter." He made a dismissive gesture. "That can be worked around. What's your name?"

She swallowed. "Holandra Laroche."

His eyes narrowed. "Your family name has a long history in Slytherin."

"Yes!" She smiled and then quickly wrinkled her brow. "Why does that matter?"

"A female Hufflepuff in first year will never make the house team." The confusion left her face and exchanged itself with disappointment. "However," Draco continued with a smirk as the young girl looked up again. "Slytherin has a sorry excuse for a Seeker at the moment." He winked then beckoned her near with a long finger. "Tell the Headmaster you'd like to request a resorting, make up any excuse you like, but make it happen. When the Sorting Hat is on your head, concentrate. Tell it with your mind that you want Slytherin, and try to picture the faces of your Slytherin relatives. When the hat tells you what you want to hear, act surprised, thank the Headmaster, and then come back to me. Understood?"

She blinked a few times and nodded, but said nothing.

"If you're as good as your claims, I'll make sure you get on the team. Now," he raised his voice to normal speech level. "Your books, Miss Laroche, are due next Monday. Run along."

She snapped out of her daze, swept up her books and whispered a quick "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." Before turning quickly toward the exit. 

'Yes, I would make a wonderful father,' he silently thought. Draco assumed that Miss Laroche would take this moment to leave the library, but her sudden spin back around captured his interest.

“Forgot something, did you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No, Um - I’ve heard you were a Seeker too, right?”

Draco gave her a wink and then displayed a smile that would melt snow. “Still am.”

 

~*~

It had been a rather uneventful morning and Draco had been taking his time, carefully organizing his options. He had been up half the night wondering if perhaps he had set his sights too high, or if he was willing to put up with the raging temper Severus possessed that he had somehow forgotten about. The jealous streak he could probably live with, as well as the age difference, but there was something else that Snape possessed that Draco surprisingly couldn’t help wanting a taste of.

Potter.

“Kingsroy! Quidditch tack is not allowed in the Library! Five points from Hufflepuff.”

The new plan that had been forming in his head overnight had him thinking in a dangerous direction. Oh, he still hated the god of Gryffindor, and it would be so easy to capture Severus if he could prove that Potter had been unfaithful. The only problem came with the seduction. If Severus caught wind of _whom_ Harry had been unfaithful with, Draco knew he could kiss away any hope of finding himself chained to a bed and licked clean by his obsession.

“You two! Kindly separate your lips and go to the Astronomy Tower if you plan to continue. Ten points from Ravenclaw.”

Potter was too much of a temptation to ignore, especially when he had so willingly displayed his weakness. All his fears and doubts were so evident in his eyes that Draco could almost taste how desperately Harry longed for freedom. He could tell Potter’s love for Severus was true, but he also saw that the poor soft-hearted boy was breaking with every month that rolled by, every gained inch around his middle and with every new, smothering rule from his husband. 

Draco tried to guess at how many melodious words he would have to whisper before Potter was writhing beneath him, wailing his name. ‘Mmm…what a pretty image.’ He licked his dry lips.

“Thank you, Mr. Evanston. _The Joys of Wormwood_ is due next Monday. Best of luck on your essay for Professor Snape.”

Now that he had agreed to hand over the ‘Trojan pickles’, Draco couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped his lips. The protection potion would alert Snape when anyone touched Potter, making Draco’s game of ‘Seduce the Gryffindor’ exceedingly difficult, unless he could somehow use it all to his advantage. He needed to find a way to tarnish the ‘Golden Boy’ enough that Severus would no longer be captive to his shine.

“You there. Get me a Ravenclaw Prefect.”

Last night Severus had touched Draco, more than once, and the memory of it was enough to make the bed sheets sufficiently moist in the hours that followed. He tried to recreate his favourite moment now by pressing his hips firmly against the counter while imagining Snape’s warm frame pushing gently from behind. He indulged and closed his eyes, pressing his palms into the cool surface of the marble top.

“You…uh, you needed a Prefect, Sir?”

Draco’s eyes snapped open. A beautiful young man with a Ravenclaw Prefect’s badge was staring at him with flushed cheeks. 

“I certainly do. What’s your name?”

“Gordon Rowbank, Sir. We – we were in school together.”

“Were we?” Draco asked, tilting his head.

He nodded. “I was in fifth year when you were in seventh.”

Draco searched his memory for attractive Ravenclaws from his last year but was coming up empty for any names or faces. “Hmm…did I _know_ you?”

“No, I don’t think so, Sir.”

“Well we will have to remedy that, won’t we?” Draco smiled warmly at the nervous boy. “I have a lunch meeting. You will stay here and assist the students until my return, understood?” Draco knew his tone was somewhat less than professional, but he could hardly keep the purr out of his voice when there was such a lovely creature standing so near. 

Gordon swallowed and Draco couldn’t help watching the movement of his Adam’s apple. 

“Yes, Sir, but I have Potions right after lunch.”

“I will send up some food for you, and will personally make sure you are not late for Potions. Are those acceptable terms?” Draco finished with a winning smile and watched the boy’s eyes fall from his own and wander over his chest.

“Yes. Thank you, Sir,” Gordon answered, lowering his head respectfully.

Draco moved out from behind the counter and walked up to the captivating Prefect. He lowered his voice.

“Do not disappoint me, Gordon. I’ll be back for you in an hour.” 

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” he whispered shakily.

The young man’s words sent a shiver down Draco’s spine. He tilted the pink face up to meet his gaze with one elegant finger under Gordon’s chin. He didn’t much care how inappropriate his actions were at this point.

“Please, call me Draco.”

~*~

The lunch had gone better than Draco had ever expected. After the first awkward fifteen minutes of confessions and apologies for past behaviour, they shook hands and continued on with Harry none the wiser and Draco one step closer to the prize.

"So, what's it like being pregnant?" Draco asked, dabbing a bit of mustard from the corner of his mouth.

Surprisingly, Harry seemed only a little taken back by the forwardness of the question. "Oh, um...strange. The first bit was pretty horrible; really, I doubt you want to hear about it."

Draco elegantly crossed his legs and sat forward in his chair, giving Harry all of his attention. "No, I'm quite fascinated, go on."

Harry looked down at the table for a moment before continuing. "Well, there were several spells to shift my organs, push out my hips and create the necessary bits needed for growing the baby.” 

He looked up and licked his bottom lip absently. Draco wondered just how that plump lip would taste. He inwardly yelled the thought away and urged himself to concentrate as Harry continued. 

“It felt like someone had moved in there and decided to renovate..." He winced at the memory. “…without removing their shoes first,” Harry quickly finished, adding a bit of a chuckle on at the end. "After that, I was really ill for almost two months." He smiled and patted his stomach. "I think we gave Severus a few more grey hairs."

Draco laughed softly. "I've read a few books on the subject, but I've never heard the renovation description before. Perhaps it's time for a new book."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "If I ever do get around to writing, that's the last subject on my list, thank you." He sipped at his tea.

"Yes, I'm sure people would much rather enjoy reading 'One Hundred and One Ways to Fall Off a Broom' by Harry James Potter-Snape."

Harry smiled for a brief moment, then settled back against his chair and exhaled. Draco caught the shadow of regret flicker for an instant in his eyes.

"It's been ages since I've been on a broom." Harry shifted in his seat and turned back to look at Draco. "Did you do much flying when you were away?"

"Whenever I wasn't meditating or studying. Mostly at sunset when the heat wasn't so unbearable. I was the talk of the town for the first few weeks. They're a bit behind the times in Madurai, still flying on carpets."

"But India has an International Quidditch team."

"They're all from the North."

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Harry nodded thoughtfully and reached for a pickle. "When I was banned in fifth year, I snuck out a few times to watch you fly."

"Did you?" Draco snatched the pickle and held it up as a prize before Harry could close his swollen fingers around it. "Why me?" 

Harry laughed and nicked it back. "Because you always flew alone. Even though we weren’t friends, I could tell you loved it as much as I did."

This new information took Draco by surprise, but he kept it expertly hidden behind the dreamy smile he had practiced. He was also quite enjoying the show as Harry quickly licked the brine off the pickle and popped it into his mouth.

"I do love it, and flying against you was always a welcome challenge.” Draco almost choked at the ‘pleased as punch’ smile Harry was now wearing. He took in a slow breath and continued seducing his prey. “Yes, as much as I adored your punishment that year, I was bored out of my cauldron every time you didn’t show up to play." 

Harry turned and looked longingly out the large window. “Once the baby comes, I’d love to play again.”

Draco doubted it would work, but he tried a little temptation. “Why wait? We could go flying tonight, just the two of us. It would be good for you to get some fresh air.” 

Harry broke eye contact and ran a hand through his hair. “You know why.”

“Is he tall with shiny black hair and billowing robes?” Draco smirked.

Harry's expression softened. “Well, I was thinking of the small and fragile member of the family." He pointed at the bump of his stomach. "But there’s the tall one to obey, yeah.”

Draco couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. “Obey?”

Harry nodded. “I promised.”

“Of course.” 

They sat silent for a while, both sipping at their tea. Draco was first to break back into conversation.

"How was the food? I was going to ask you at the feast last night what you wanted to eat for our meeting, but you didn't come, and you didn't show at breakfast today either. I thought perhaps you were ill."

Harry was biting his lip again, and Draco noticed the hypnotic rubbing of both hands over his slight belly.

"It's different now that the baby is showing. I take meals here or in our rooms. Severus will join me for dinners, but last night he had to attend the feast."

"He's keeping you hidden?"

Harry turned again to the window. "No. Yes. Only until the baby comes."

Draco shifted in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Dungeon-dwelling comes naturally to a Slytherin, but don't Gryffindors need the sun?"

Harry turned to face Draco. "I don't mind. It's only for a few months. I do all the paperwork now that I'm not going on home visits for work, and I'll be doing some marking for Severus while he’s with you."

"Still sounds like hiding to me." Draco took another sip and thought about how to perfectly phrase his next line. "I thought most of the students already knew about you and Severus?"

"Yes, but not about the baby. It's just the staff, Ron, Hermione, Remus - and you."

"Why keep it a secret?" Draco traced his finger around the rim of his cup.

"We still have enemies," Harry whispered. "Severus wants to be careful."

Draco was losing ground fast, but he didn’t really know where to go once the conversation had taken such an abrupt turn. Before he had time to worry about another strategy, Harry groaned and pushed himself against the chair-back, wearing a strange expression. His fingers moved over his rounded stomach as if chasing something under the fabric. His eyes were wide as he turned and sought out Draco.

Draco didn't know what to do. “Are you ill? Should I call Severus?” 

“No, I’m fine, I think. Come here!”

Before he could scold himself for obeying a Potter, Draco was standing close behind Harry’s chair, wondering what was going on. Not giving him any time to come to a conclusion, Harry reached around and back for Draco’s hands and pulled forward, mashing them, palm down onto his belly while pulling his robes aside. All that stood between Draco’s slender fingers and Harry’s warm skin was a thin cotton t-shirt. Draco made to pull back on instinct when a flutter of movement under his left thumb froze him where he stood.

"Feel that?" Harry asked as his breathing sped up.

Draco's back was not used to this hunched position, but as the little flutter he had felt became an obvious ‘push’ outwards, Draco gasped and found himself reluctant to give up the strange sensation. Harry’s hand covered his own and pushed slowly but firmly back against the lump that had formed below. Draco’s mouth went dry.

“Gods, Harry. It’s moving!”

Harry nodded, smiling like a fool. “Yeah, I think that was a flip. I’ve never felt that before…oh!” The smile faded slightly, but he was still clearly excited by the new development of his child.

“Same again?" Draco asked; slightly shocked as he felt the lump rise again under his index finger. Harry nodded. A funny thought suddenly struck Draco. "Maybe you have a Seeker in there,” he teased. Harry nodded and laughed softly.

The infant stopped moving. Draco didn’t know why he was still leaning into Harry's flushed cheek, or why he hadn’t pulled away just yet, but a rush of wind, and the crashing of the door was enough to make him believe that moving would be a very good idea.

“What is the meaning of this?” Severus' angry voice slammed into them from across the room.

Draco could see by the anger blazing behind his dark eyes, what Severus had _thought_ he had seen. From his spot by the door, Draco's hands on Harry's stomach were hidden behind the desk. Severus would have seen his husband leaning into Draco, robes pushed open, flushed and laughing while Draco was touching his lover somewhere too low to be appropriate.

Harry recovered first and tried to calm the raging form moving toward him. “Severus, it’s all right, I was just showing…”

Snape made his way over to Harry with incredible speed and silenced him with the back of his hand before Harry could say anything more in his defence. Draco watched as Harry’s head whipped to the side with the force of the blow, and continued to stare as Potter’s expression fell from shock into hollowness. His eyes came up slowly, searching the stone face of his enraged husband, but nothing remained of his Severus except white-hot rage and jealousy behind black eyes. 

Harry's trembling fingers gingerly touched the tender skin along his cheekbone, as his eyes quickly filled with tears. The silence from Severus, and the look of disgust he was throwing at his lover was sickening. Draco glimpsed an expression of defeat and hopelessness in Harry's eyes just before he covered his face and crumpled in on himself. 

It was painful to watch, even if Draco did hate him. Potter was breaking from only one hit, although Draco knew Severus’ strike had damaged so much more than just Harry’s skin and pride. Before he could stop himself, Draco heard himself speaking.

“Severus.”

Draco swallowed as the cold gaze lifted from Harry and bore into him.

“You’ve _helped_ enough, I believe. Get your things, and get out.” He said it so quietly that it gave Draco chills.

“No.”

Severus’ face slowly flushed. “You are not mine to discipline, but I’ll do it nonetheless if you do not leave us, now.”

Draco chose his words carefully. “Nothing happened. I would never take what's yours.” Draco offered, not wanting Severus to think he actually wanted Potter.

“I saw you both! However, you are right about not taking.” He kicked Harry hard in the shin, causing him to cry out in pain, still hiding his face, sobbing into his hands. Severus pointed at Potter. " _He_ was giving! _Offering_ himself!” 

Draco could hear the pained gasps as Harry fought to control his breathing. 

"How many more are there that I don't know about?” Snape’s fury kept burning as he hissed at Harry. “I imagine you fancy Finnigan? Or how about Lupin?" Harry continued to shake, tears seeping out from between his fingers. "ANSWER ME!" 

Draco wondered for a moment why Potter continued taking abuse, refusing to fight back. 

“No,” he heard himself saying again. “We were just talking over some lunch and the baby moved.” Draco took a step away from Harry’s chair. “He wanted to share the experience with me, since I had been asking about the pregnancy, so I touched his stomach and felt your child move. Severus…” Draco softened his tone and nodded toward Harry. “He did nothing wrong.”

He had surprised himself by coming to Potter’s defence, and silently cursed whatever had triggered the response. He let the silence hang in the air, waiting for Severus to digest his words and make the next move. 

He watched in fascination as the red stain on Snape’s cheeks quickly melted away, leaving his skin pale and sunken-looking. As fast as it had flared, the anger and fire behind his eyes was suddenly gone, a look of horror now replaced it as he fell to his knees in front of Harry, placing shaking hands on his husband’s shoulders.

“Is this true? Harry?” He whispered, his whole frame shaking. "Please, answer me."

Harry slowly unfurled. Before his hands dropped, Draco already knew what he would see. A violent red-purple bruise stood out like blood in the snow on Harry’s swollen cheek. His eyes were puffy, wet and bloodshot. In stark contrast to the heat pouring off of him in waves was the ice-cold sound of his voice as he stared at Severus, looking _through_ him.

“What do you care? You've already made up your mind, haven't you?”

Draco stared at Harry's transformation and could almost taste the pain and regret as Severus tried to speak.

“Harry – Harry, I’m...” Snape was searching for words, but Draco knew Potter wouldn't hear any more. It was too late. 

“You _know_ I'm yours," Harry whispered, looking heartbroken. "Why don't you trust me?" His voice cracked as emotion crept in. "You said you wouldn't..." The green was shining from the wet red of his eyes as he took a ragged breath. "You promised you'd never..." His hand reached again for the swollen cheek, choking on his own words, unable to continue.

Draco almost gasped when Severus looked up at him suddenly with pleading eyes.

“Draco, please leave us.”

“No,” Harry rasped, startling Severus who turned to face him again, ready to say something, but Harry wasn’t going to give him a chance. “Get out,” he hissed, grabbing the edge of the desk as he pulled himself to his feet, swaying dangerously. "Both of you."

Draco could tell Severus meant to protest, but quickly closed his mouth and got to his feet when the furniture started to vibrate. He looked terrified. Draco heard a few snapping sounds behind him. He turned and saw small cracks forming on the window panes, spidering out toward the frame. He moved then too, backing up slowly away from the trembling Gryffindor, with Severus just slightly in front and to the left of him. Potter’s skin was turning a sickly green-grey colour and he looked on the verge of collapsing.

They had barely stepped into the hallway when Harry’s unsteady hand flew up, causing the door to slam in their faces.

~*~


	4. Chapter 4

Snape paced like a caged jaguar in front of his bedroom door, cursing himself for his stupidity and unwarranted jealousy. He could hear his heart pounding away against his ears, and wondered how long he would have to wait before Poppy would allow him in to see Harry. He hadn't given her all the details, but had reluctantly explained why Harry had bruises on his face and shins, and why he was driven to perform wandless magic. He paused briefly, staring at the oak door, worry clawing at his mind.

"Foolish!" Severus hissed at himself and resumed pacing.

What made matters worse, was the fact that Poppy kept referring to Harry as 'the boy', as if Snape was some sort of monster for inflicting himself on a pregnant child. 'But she's right, isn't she?' his inner voice taunted. 'He’s barely past nineteen, and you have broken him already.'

"No." 

Snape's voice echoed against the walls of the empty main room. He shook his head to chase the thoughts away and collapsed against a wall, head in his hands. He rubbed at his forehead, trying to remove the images of what he had seen an hour earlier.

After Harry had driven them out, Severus had stared blankly at the closed door. A terrible aching had made its home in his chest, and he found it difficult to breathe. Draco's hand on his arm, and the gentle reminder that he had a class to teach, finally brought him out of his trance. He didn't want to leave Harry in the condition he knew he would be in, but he also knew the damage would be worse if he opened the door. 

He had been foolish to assume that Harry would be able to take himself to the infirmary. Severus prayed now that his neglect had not cost him the lives of one or both of the two souls he desperately loved. As much as people would believe otherwise, he did love Harry. Fiercely. He was the light Severus never thought he deserved. And their child was a gift he never dreamed he would be given.

His thoughts drifted again to the closed door of Harry's office. Severus stood there again after his lesson and had spoken softly to the wood, eventually demanding that Harry open the door. After several minutes of fruitless pleading, he took matters into his own hands and resorted to his wand.

Harry was lying on the floor, face down, unmoving. Severus didn't remember walking over or kneeling down, but in a blink of an eye he was touching Harry's white-blue wrist, searching for signs of life as his own heart twisted painfully. The weak pulse he found was all the proof he needed to crawl to the fireplace and bellow for Poppy.

"They'll live." 

Poppy's sharp voice and the sound of the closing door brought Severus back to the present. He pulled himself up to his full height and tried to look commanding.

"I want to see him," he snapped.

"You'll do no such thing, Severus, and don't you dare try that tone on me, not after what you have done to the boy."

Snape sighed and felt his shoulders fall slightly. He indicated two chairs and she moved to sit in Harry's. He joined her in his own.

"You're right." He took his time with the words. "There was a misunderstanding..." She glared at him. "...on my part." She nodded. "I lost my temper..." He hung his head, suddenly too tired of holding it up any longer. "However, I realise the..."

"As much as I would like it to be, it is not my business how you treat your husband, Severus." Poppy pressed her lips together and breathed through her nose as if she were trying to control saying what she really wanted to. "Your child, however, is under the Headmaster's protection."

He lifted his head for a moment. "Yes, I am aware, and I..."

"I'm sorry," she interrupted. "You don't get to speak until I'm done." He lowered his head once again, seeing no reason to fight her. "They will be fine in a few days if there isn't a repeat performance of your actions today."

Severus sighed with relief and nodded. "Understood."

"However, when Harry collapsed, he knocked his head on something; I'm guessing it was the desk, on his way to the floor. You will need to check tomorrow morning for any signs of swelling and make sure he gets plenty of rest and food if he can manage it."

"When can I see him?"

"He has everything he needs for this evening through until tomorrow morning. You can have breakfast together tomorrow if he wishes it, but you are not permitted to see him until then."

Severus tried to control the anger that was slowly rising, but he felt it twist around his words, if not showing on his face. "I respect your advice, I always have, but even you cannot keep me from my own bedroom!"

She crossed her arms. "Perhaps not, Severus, but I'm afraid that Harry most certainly can."

Snape snapped his head up and sat straight in his chair, face white. "He should not be using magic, he'll..."

"Calm down." She reached for his hand, pulling his attention away from panic, momentarily. "He has spoken to Albus and has asked him to lock and ward the door and to shut off the Floo connection within the room."

Severus kept watching her, waiting for his heart to stop burning him from the inside out.

"Harry will be allowed through the wards if he wishes to come out, but I doubt he will. He's had enough sleeping draught to ensure he rests until the morning, and his nervous system needs a break. He's a mess, Severus." She pulled back and slouched against the chair. She suddenly looked as tired as Severus felt.

The tension in his heart moved into his jaw as he tried to form words. "Thank you, Poppy. I understand." He swallowed slowly. "Did he say - are there any messages for me?" He couldn't help himself. He was begging her with broken words. He needed something, anything to keep him from falling apart. Without Harry beside him, he felt like an empty shell.

"He asked me to tell you to mend your fences with Mr. Malfoy and to get some sleep." She sighed and stood. "Good evening, Severus. I trust you can transfigure a bed for yourself?" He nodded.

He only waited a moment after she had left before summoning Draco.

~*~

When the house elf arrived with Snape's message, Draco couldn't decide whether to head directly to dungeons, or make to a quick detour to his room to 'freshen up'. He finally decided on the latter. It wouldn't do to have the scent of his and Gordon's recent 'tutoring session' interfering with what he hoped to accomplish tonight. Draco told the half-naked boy to clean himself up, and then wiped the student’s memory clean, along with that dejected look on his face. He sent the confused and rumpled Prefect back to Ravenclaw, praising him for a 'job' well done.

Draco was ready to act. It was much sooner than he had expected, but with news from Albus that Harry was ill and locked up tight for the night, Draco knew he would be a fool to waste such an opportunity. He had been paying close attention to Severus and Potter since his arrival, and had managed to learn a great deal in very little time. This attention to everything lurking beneath the surface had helped him construct the perfect seduction. He had made quite a few alterations to the plan, but tonight it would be flawless.

His future depended on it.

Once in his room, he tried to dress as he would for attending dinner in the Great Hall, but took extra care to make sure he looked stunning and smelled irresistible, but in a subtle way as not to arouse suspicion. His only regret was not having the time to meditate. He didn't want anything to distract him from the prize, and twenty extra minutes would ensure that, but it would also leave Severus waiting. He used the walk down to the dungeons to focus as much energy he could on organizing his thoughts. His attacks and parries were properly in order, but there was one more thing he needed.

He ducked into a dark alcove to the right of the last set of stairs and pressed his hands against the wall. His eyes closed as he felt the cold texture of the stone. He tilted his head up to the ceiling and whispered. "Watch me, Father." 

He began a soft, low hum. The stone warmed and swelled slightly under his pale fingers. He needed a fix, a small taste of the magic flowing through the castle. 

There was no way to explain the way he felt when he connected with the ancient magic, except to say that it was simultaneously glorious and painful. He felt full, warm and wise, but at the same time trapped, empty and forgotten. The castle not only pulsed with light magic, but also with dark. Dark spells were needed to keep some of the more complicated protection, concealment and anti-apparating charms operational. He craved and savoured every sensation until his mind sensed that enough time had passed. He pulled away, reluctantly, but he knew he had the final strength he needed. A smile slowly crept across his lips. 

He was ready.

~*~

"Severus?" Draco called softly, pushing the open door.

Snape was hunched forward in a chair, resting his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard Draco's voice. His black hair was hiding most of his face until shaking fingers reached to tuck it back behind his ear again. He looked like someone had extinguished any remaining spark behind his eyes.

'Broken.' Draco listened to the thought before it vanished. He wanted to go to him, fall at his feet, hold him until it was only the two of them, all trace of Potter gone, but it wasn’t an option just yet.

"Please, come in, Draco."

He quietly entered and moved behind Snape, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He figured Severus would appreciate the gesture, since he wouldn’t want Draco to see that he had been crying. Slytherin men knew how to treat their own.

"How is he?" Draco asked softly.

Severus sighed. "In Poppy’s professional opinion, ‘a mess’, but he'll be healthy again with rest, and time."

"And the child?"

"Undamaged."

Draco added his other hand and began a gentle massage on the tension-tight muscles of Snape's shoulders. "You've all been through quite an ordeal."

"Draco." Severus reached back and slid a hand over Draco's own. His hands stilled on the sharp shoulders as he moved forward and looked down into the dark, tired eyes as Severus spoke. "I apologise for my behaviour, and I want..."

Draco moved back into position behind the chair and continued lightly squeezing and releasing. "Shh... It’s forgotten." 

Severus rested his hands on the arms of the chair and tilted his face up. "You are more of a friend than I deserve." 

Draco smiled down at him. He tried not to think how easy it would be to lean down and taste what he had been craving. "I understand why you reacted with anger. If I had been in your place - thought my lover wanted someone else, I would have done the same."

Severus nodded, weakly.

"Although..." Draco dropped the bait and dug his thumbs firmly into the base of Snape's neck, smiling at the soft moan his efforts produced.

"What is it?"

Draco worked the same spot again, feeling the muscle move reluctantly under his care. "I'm sorry. It's not relevant, or worth mentioning."

"You might as well come out with it now. You know I won't let you get away with a half-utterance, boy." 

Draco took a breath and summoned his courage. "Perhaps you should have chosen someone who is strong enough to withstand your temper, or at least has the courage to confront you when you are wrong.”

In the time it took for Draco to suck in another breath, Severus was on his feet and spinning to face him, eyes wild. Draco's heart raced as Snape knocked the chair aside and grabbed Draco’s upper arms, right below the shoulder. It felt as if talons were digging through the fabric and flesh and he couldn't stop his startled gasp, or hide the excitement behind his eyes.

Severus was breathing hard, eyes wide and bloodshot. "You do realize that you are insulting both my husband and my judgement?" He hissed.

"I mean no disrespect to you, Severus…” Draco felt the castle’s energy snake around his throat and wind higher, filling his mind with clarity.

“Then what _do_ you mean?” Severus asked, shaking Draco’s arms once more.

“I’m saying he will not survive you.” He let the answer fade into silence, and then squeezed his eyes shut. Draco steadied himself for the blow that never came. Instead, the grip on his arms slowly released, and Severus’ forehead fell onto his right shoulder. Draco opened his eyes and spoke softly. “Break his heart and the rest of him shatters with it.”

“I know,” Severus whispered. “I was an idiot to believe I could possess him.”

“No.” Draco tentatively wrapped his arms around the shaking back. “You deserve so much more than a Muggle-raised orphan will ever understand.” Severus turned his face away and sighed. Draco tried to stay as still as possible, wanting to catalogue the moment in his memory. Severus was so warm.

“He’s trying. It’s my fault for expecting too much so soon.”

Draco held him close and inhaled slowly. He loved this feeling, pressed up against the man he loved, the man he knew would choose him before the night was over. He kept his left arm still, applying a gentle pressure between Severus’ shoulder blades, while the right slid slowly up and down his back. He turned his head toward the dark hair and inhaled again. 

“Come, have a seat,” he said softly. "I’ll get us some tea.”

Severus moved out of the embrace, righted his chair and sat, eyes wandering to the door that separated him from Harry. Draco stepped across his line of sight, transformed a vase of flowers into a tea tray and summoned some hot water and biscuits. He passed Severus a cup.

“Drink. It’ll help.”

Severus stared into the steam, silent for a long while. When he did speak, Draco listened without interruption.

“When we were in recovery - " Severus paused to clear his throat. "- We discussed what life would hold for us, now that the fighting was over, and we were no longer slaves to our duty. It was then that I really witnessed how much war had aged him and how much we had both been denied because of - limited choices. We both understood sacrifice, isolation, and duality.” He sighed, eyes still fixed on his cup. “When I finally convinced my stubborn mind to admit that we truly had more similarities than differences, I was already in love with him.” He paused and swallowed as Draco waited patiently. “However,” he exhaled. “I believe he may need more than I can give. He needs someone who won’t betray his trust the way I have.” He looked up at Draco with wet eyes.

He had never seen Severus so lost, and he hoped it was something that would pass quickly. There really wasn't time to nurse a broken spirit back to health. He wanted the cold, calculating man of logic he knew Severus to be, but he'd play along if it pulled him into the lead. Draco set his cup down and knelt down in front of him, one hand on Severus’ knee. He lowered his voice and his eyes.

“And perhaps _you_ need someone who comprehends a life of obedience and self control. You need someone who knows when to submit,” he purred. “And someone who knows when to challenge.”

Severus let out a harsh snort, causing Draco to look up. “Oh, he knows how to challenge.”

Draco flexed his fingers into the fabric. “Does he? Then why did he allow you to strike him? Why did he do nothing to douse your jealousy?”

Severus clasped his hands together and stared over Draco’s shoulder, pain behind his tired eyes. “He’s not the spoilt child we believed him to be.” 

Draco scoffed out loud “How can you say that? He gets anything he wants, rules never apply to him, and he always wins!” He couldn't help the bitter tone that came out with the words.

Severus turned his gaze toward pale eyes and Draco felt suddenly frozen to the spot.

“He was beaten, locked in closets, starved, left alone. His parents and identity were hidden from him and his Muggle relations looked upon him with disgust.”

Draco took a breath. “He told you this? Is it true?”

“I knew some of it to be true. Albus verified the rest.”

Draco settled back against his feet and swept some hair out of his eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you asked why he would allow me to abuse him. I promised his life and our child would be safe in my hands and he believed me. I promised he’d never be locked away again and that I would never…”

“…never hit him.” Draco let his head fall forward and rested his cheek on the rough black fabric covering Snape’s knees. Severus instinctively ran flat hands over the light, soft hair in his lap. Draco suddenly remembered quietly playing on the floor of his father’s study while the two men talked about things beyond his young comprehension. Sometimes, when his father left the room, Draco would crawl onto Severus’ lap for a dark tale told splendidly. He almost forgot to pay attention as he listened to that warm, deep voice again, and felt the cool fingers in his hair.

“That’s why he couldn’t look at my miserable face when I accused him. I broke every promise I made. He had no reason to fight back. For him, there was nothing left to fight for.” Severus’ hands stilled.

Draco wrapped his graceful arms around Severus’ lower legs. “Neither one of you are failures, just two soldiers from very different worlds.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his face along one knee. “The ending was inevitable.”

Severus sat up ridged, as if he had been shocked by lighting. He placed both hands on Draco’s shoulders and pushed away until he could make eye contact.

“Nothing has ended yet.” 

He said it so firmly, that Draco felt himself shaking from almost no contact. He stared at Severus’ thin lips as they parted.

“For the sake of our child, he may still forgive me.”

Draco took in a shaky breath. It was another sentence he never wanted to hear.

“Was he ready for any of this, Severus? I know you both want a family, but he craves his old life as well.” Draco danced internally as he watched Severus’ eyes grow wide. “He told me himself.”

“Is that so?” He said sceptically, releasing Draco’s shoulders and leaning back into his chair. “And just _what_ does he miss?” He asked sharply.

“His friends, his job, going out in public…” He glanced dramatically towards the window. “…flying.”

Snape shook his head and let out a frustrated growl. “For his own safety! Potter wouldn’t know ‘self preservation’ if it lashed out at him with its forked tongue. With the risks he is willing to take, it’s a wonder our child is still alive!”

Draco fed off the anger and emotion that was now pouring out of Severus. It was almost worth keeping him worked up if it meant a passionate reward in the near future. The flutter of fear and arousal he had felt when he had been grabbed in anger was something Draco wanted to repeat.

“He longs for freedom, Severus,” Draco drawled, pressing most of his upper body back against Severus’ legs.

“When you choose to add a child to this world, some sacrifices must be made!” Severus pushed his chair back and stood. Draco remained on his knees and lifted his eyes.

“Does he even want to be a father?”

Silence fell over the room, interrupted only by the soft flutter of Draco’s clothing as he rose from the floor. Severus looked suddenly ill. He swallowed, turned toward the bedroom door and simply stared.

“He wanted…”

Draco removed his robe, threw it over the chair and walked up behind him. He wrapped his arms around his mentor, pressing his flushed face into the back of the dark robes. 

“Take your child, Severus, and set Harry free.” Draco whispered, pressing his palms into the cloth covering Severus’ chest. Severus turned in Draco’s arms until they were face to face. There was no colour left to his skin. Draco felt the moment click into place, and he moved forward, slowly. Graceful fingers snaked over bony shoulders as he brushed his lips lightly against Severus’, his eyelids falling.

“Draco.” Snape said thickly, moving his head back a fraction, the rest of his body frozen in Draco’s embrace. “What are you doing?”

His eyes opened and he smiled sweetly. “Declaring my intentions,” he purred, shifting his hips. Severus sucked in a noisy gasp of air and tried to step back. Draco stumbled forward against him. 

“This is not a game, Malfoy!” Severus shoved Draco backward, cold eyes searching his face.

Draco shook with sudden fury and took a deep breath before stalking forward again. “Oh, _Malfoy_ , is it?” His chest was tight and aching. “You want to know my game, _Snape_? It’s called ‘wake up and leave the pathetic half-blood’!”

Before he could take back his angry words, Severus struck. Draco saw nothing for a moment, then small flashes of soft light. He was still standing, and was glad of at least that much. The sting and throbbing of his cheek helped to clear his head. He licked his own blood out of the corner of his mouth and looked directly at Snape who was breathing heavily.

“Force him to stay and he’ll die!” Draco yelled, chest heaving. “You know it’s true. You’ll hate each other and the child will witness everything. Perhaps your own son or daughter will turn against you eventually if Harry stays because of duty, or loyalty.” He calmed himself, running a hand through his hair.

“What do you know about any of this? What great wisdom tells you what I need for the future?” His glare burned a hole in Draco’s heart.

“We are cut from the same cloth, Severus. We are connected in a way that Harry will never know, could never understand.” He leaned forward and took Snape’s shaking hands in his own, stroking the sides with his thumbs.

“Draco, no, I…”

“Ask me why I stayed in India.”

Severus half-heartedly tried to pull his hands away, but Draco could smell victory. There was no chance he would let go now.

“I hardly think this is the time…”

“Please, ask me.” Draco pleaded.

“Why didn’t you return home when the war had ended?” Severus forced out the words, his voice sounding dry and uncomfortable.

“I was foolish. I could have come back once things had been cleaned up, fences mended, so to speak, but I honestly believed you were dead.” He took a deep breath, released Severus’ hands, and slid them up until they cupped his face. Snape seemed to have turned into a motionless, porcelain version of himself. “I had nothing to come back for. No one.”

“But your mother must have been…”

“The man I loved was dead,” he whispered roughly, eyes shining. “You…were dead.” He dropped his head against Snape’s shoulder and wept quietly. He hadn’t meant to lose control of his emotions, but he was tired of the fight, he wanted his reward sooner rather than later. 

“Draco. I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of your - feelings.” He reached for Draco’s wrists and pulled the hands away from his face. “I have always cared for you. Perhaps if circumstances had been different - but I love Harry. Even if he never forgives me, I can’t allow myself to break another vow. I’m his, do you understand? His until death.”

“His death, or yours?” Draco spat, rejection twisting painfully in his stomach.

He saw something shimmering out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t have enough time to move before the object smacked against his temple. He screamed, both hands flying up to protect himself. Severus spun around.

“You forgot your cane, Malfoy.”

Harry’s voice was low and void of emotion. He stood in the doorframe, swaying slightly, wearing a thin nightshirt. His eyes were dark and hollow-looking, skin blotchy and his left hand was pressed protectively over his stomach. He flicked the fingers of his right hand and the cane swooped and took another swing at Draco, making a sick-sounding thud as it made contact across his shoulder blades. Harry groaned from exertion and slid to the floor.

“Harry, enough! You’re weakened. Stop, please,” Severus begged, but Harry seemed not to hear.

He glared at Draco. “We have _nothing_ in common!” Harry yelled as the cane flew around, cracking Draco‘s nose with frightening force. Draco cried out again and spit blood. A circle of flames sprung up around him. Harry lowered his arm and whimpered as the cane clattered against the stone floor. The hand on Harry’s stomach clenched into a fist.

“Harry, stop casting!” Severus pleaded, trying to reach him, but a high wall of flames materialized in his path.

Draco slumped to the floor, blood and tears blurring his vision. He watched in silence, almost a detached observer, as Severus turned back around, flames dancing in the reflection of his black eyes. 

The last thing Draco heard before losing consciousness was an ear-splitting scream from Harry, a string of unsuccessful extinguishing spells from Snape, and the crackle of the flames closing in around him. 

“Well played, Potter.” He whispered, smiling bitterly to himself as the darkness took him.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco jolted awake to the sound of someone screaming. 

Potter.

He lifted his head quickly, but the blackness that swam across his eyes suggested that moving wasn’t the best of ideas. A quick sniff of the too-clean air quickly identified his surroundings. The infirmary. Draco attempted to take inventory of his recently healed, yet still-tender injuries, but found it near impossible with his wrists and legs magically bound to the metal frame of the bed. He gave a few experimental pulls and cursed loudly when the bonds refused to give way.

His ranting and attempts to escape attracted Dumbledore’s attention.

“Shit,” Draco whispered harshly under his breath as the old man left Potter’s side of the room and moved toward him. Draco’s head was pounding. He tried to see what had Potter so worked up, but there was a set of screens blocking him from view.

“Mr. Malfoy.” 

“Headmaster,” Draco mumbled in greeting. “Forgive me for not rising, but I seem to be tied to the bed.”

“So it would seem.”

“Well, if you would be so kind…” 

“Do you know of kindness, Draco?”

He left the question unanswered as he looked directly at the Headmaster. What he saw in those old eyes turned his blood to ice. 

Harry shrieked again. Whatever was going on, it sounded painful. The scream faded into sobbing.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment as shards of memories leapt to the front of his mind. He remembered the warmth of Severus pressed against him, the first sting from his father’s cane, the cold hollow of Harry’s accusing eyes, and the strange peaceful feeling as flames began to lick at his ears. He forced his eyes open again at a small noise from Dumbledore. 

“What’s wrong with Potter?” Draco asked, very aware that he was still bound.

“His body is reacting to the overuse of magic so close after the last.” Dumbledore glanced over his shoulder and then back to Draco. His sigh spoke volumes. “I’m afraid this is a battle he may not win.”

Draco couldn’t stop the snort, or the bitter words that escaped. “Sir, it’s Potter. He’ll live. He always does.”

“And for that I am glad. However, I doubt he’ll still be the same man when this day is through.”

Poppy rushed past them, muttering hurriedly to herself as a good many instruments, towels and blankets followed in mid air. Draco heard Potter’s sporadic screams change into incoherent whimpers once she had reached his side of the room.

“What does that mean?” Draco asked, impatience sneaking into his tone. 

He was growing tired of the old man’s riddles and of not being untied. He pulled again on his bonds to make his situation more obvious. Dumbledore’s eyes glanced down at the rattle, and then slowly back up. Draco silently fumed. 

Albus removed his glasses, rubbing one hand across his eyes. “He believes he has nothing left to live for.” 

“What?” Draco snapped, thinking that the old fool looked pitifully close to tears. “Nothing? He has _everything_!” 

He had planned on saying more, but the strange shining fire growing behind the Headmaster’s eyes stopped Draco’s next thought before he had a chance to give it life. He suddenly noticed his own fingers were trembling. He curled them quickly into the bedclothes to hide the increasing tremors. 

When Albus next spoke, Draco felt as if a large invisible hand had landed on his chest and was holding him down, slowly pushing him with great force against the rickety excuse for a hospital bed.

“You, Draco Lucius Malfoy,” his voice was suddenly strong, lower and unwavering. “…are being charged with initiating sexual relations with a student, bleeding magic from the castle for personal gain, intent to harm a person or persons protected within the school, and murder. Do you understand these charges?”

Draco could only struggle for breath as the invisible force continued crushing him. He thrashed around gracelessly in a blind panic as the words randomly echoed in his over-sensitive ears. He could hear whispers, thousands of voices crawling inside his head. He recognised the ancient magic from the castle as it fled from him, leaving only the haunting voices. The pitch and volume rose steadily until they were a chorus united, chanting one terrifying word.

“Murder?” He heard himself sputter.

Just as suddenly as they invaded, the voices ceased. Draco blinked a few times until the blurry Headmaster was a clear image once more.

“Of course all of this will be sent to you in writing, when you are moved to a secure wing of St Mungo’s later today,” he said, voice back to its normal softness. The headmaster’s eyes swept over Draco’s shaking form, “I blame myself for not acting sooner, and for putting the staff and students in danger when I offered you a position.”

“Sir…” Draco choked.

“I had such hope for you, Draco.”

He turned to leave, but paused when Draco’s body made a strange moaning sound.

“There must be some mistake.” Draco stopped trying to fight his bonds and sank pitifully back into the sweat-soaked sheets. “I…” He swallowed shakily. “Headmaster, I confess to one sexual encounter in my study with a consenting student who is of age, and to _borrowing_ a small portion of the castle’s magic, but I intended no harm come to anyone, including Potter - Harry.” His voice gained some footing and became stronger as the words poured out. “He injured himself by using his magic after some sort of - _domestic dispute_ with his husband, but there certainly was no murder!”

“If the student was willing, why did you alter his memory?”

Draco swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. There was no answer he wanted to give.

Dumbledore’s tone changed, sounding almost bitter. “And I assure you, Mister Malfoy, the final charge of murder has merit. Your selfish actions have caused a life to be extinguished.” 

Draco felt his cheeks burning with a rage he didn’t know he had strength enough to produce. “Fine!” he spit back. “Tell me, who did I kill?”

“I believe, before this tragedy, his fathers were favouring the name August.”

The next breath caught in Draco’s throat, holding back his denial but his mind screamed in disbelief.

Potter’s wailing resumed.

 

~*~

“Sit up slowly, yes, that’s it.”

Severus knew that voice. He opened his eyes slowly, recognizing Albus standing in his bedroom and the charred remains of the main room beyond. 

Then he remembered. 

Draco. 

Fire. 

His eyes grew wide as he searched the other side of the bed.

“Harry!” 

“…is in the infirmary, recovering. Please, Severus, calm yourself.”

He flung the blankets aside. “I will _not_ calm down! He used - gods, Albus, the power he used. And Draco, he…” A wash of dizziness struck him, causing the room to spin momentarily.

“Mr. Malfoy is also in the hospital wing. Again, Severus, I must ask you to…”

Severus coughed suddenly, his body breaking out in a cold sweat, heart racing. “They cannot be kept together! Harry’s weak and Draco intends to…”

“Draco is bound to his bed, recovering from his own injuries and awaiting a transfer to St. Mungo’s until he has been deemed fit for trial.”

“Trial?”

“Yes. As well as what transpired here in your rooms…” Albus gestured toward the open door. “Mr. Malfoy has modified the memory of a student he had intimate relations with, bled power from the ancient magic protecting the school, endangered lives, and has…”

Severus waited for more, but the Headmaster had trailed off, turning his head away. There was something to be feared when Albus broke eye contact.

“What else has he done?” Severus whispered, reaching to touch the arm of his old friend. “Albus?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t act sooner, Severus. If I had, this tragedy may have been avoided.”

“We will recover, please don’t blame yourself. Draco is an exquisite actor.” He moved to stand.

“Please, Severus, one moment more.” He rested a hand lightly on Severus’ shoulder before he could rise. “I’m afraid I do blame myself,” he sighed softly. “The first time I was made aware that Draco had drained magic from the castle, I should have dismissed him. My sources told me he was meditating, therefore I believed him to be experimenting with his newly acquired skills of focus from India, but I was very wrong to assume.”

“There is no doubt that I overlooked some obvious signs myself, but we can discuss this at a later time. I need to go to the infirmary.”

“Harry will certainly need you now, and I wish to be there for the both of you.”

“Albus,” Severus whispered darkly. “What are you not telling me?”

He sighed and sat beside Severus on the bed, eyes fixed on the bit of floor in front of them. “The magic Harry used was - too great. By the time Poppy and I were able to extinguish the flames and reach him…”

Severus felt as if his chest were caving in. The ache was worse than any magical injury. 

“He had to be removed to save Harry. There was no other way.”

“He.” Severus’ voice was no louder than a breath. “I have a son.” One tear burned a trail down pale, blotched skin and dripped off his bottom lip. He sat, frozen in the moment.

“Yes.”

More wet tracks joined the first. “Is he - does he look…”

Albus squeezed the shoulder under his hand. “Perfect.” His voice wavered. “Like he’s sleeping without a care.”

Severus swallowed. His eyes wandered around the room, unfocused. “Asleep.”

A painful, heavy silence settled around the room. Both men seemed lost to their sad thoughts until Albus took in an audible breath and spoke again.

“You may still see your child, if you wish. Poppy has taken…”

“Excuse me.”

Severus pushed himself off the bed and stumbled blindly into the bathroom. He closed the door with shaking hands and collapsed onto the cold floor, his strength abandoning him. He landed on his knees and buckled forward, reaching back through his tangled hair and began weeping into the crooks of his elbows. He bit his lip, and rocked, trying to fight back a howl of fury and loss that begged to be released. 

He unfurled long enough to vomit into the toilet. When there was nothing left to expel, he curled into himself once more and resumed the rocking that followed the steady rhythm of the dripping faucet.

Time rearranged itself.

Several dark thoughts fought each other for a firm hold on his mind. His precious control, his pride and joy, melted into his wet sleeve, along with his tears. His fingers closed into fists, limp hair imprisoned within.

He tried to picture his son but could only pull up one tragic, tangled image after another. He located a vision of Harry and clung to it until Harry’s face distorted with pain as if he were being tortured. Severus’ throat burned as he leaned once more over the toilet. His body was weakened and aching everywhere. He couldn’t slow his breathing or stop the treacherous tears. 

 

~*~

Draco deduced that the last disgusting potion Poppy had forced down his throat must have been something to calm his nerves, but from where he still twitched, bound to the bed, it didn’t seem to be doing its job. He felt only blind panic as his heart twisted painfully. 

There would be no rest for him now. He knew it. He had tread one step too far, pushing Potter to protect what was his - what had always been his. 

Even if, by some twist of fate, Severus could forgive him for his deception, he would never forgive Draco for putting his family in danger - for killing his only child.

There would be no winner.

Tears of loss and regret ran down the side of his face as he stared blankly at the ceiling. He felt the wetness slide against his skin and soak into his hair and pillow. He couldn’t stop the tremors that shook him at random intervals or silence the murmur of voices that had resumed taunting him.

Draco pleaded silently for them to stop, but the muttering only increased. When he couldn’t control them with his mind, he tried pleading out loud, stuttering, failing again. In one last, desperate attempt, he filled his lungs and pushed with all the force he had left, feeling the scream being torn from him. 

Poppy emerged from behind the screens and threw a silencing spell at him, causing the voices to retreat for a moment from the pulse of magic passing through Draco’s body.

Thin, bright threads of magic from the wall beside him slid under the sheets when the healer wasn’t looking, coiling around his wrists and climbing, branding him as they moved. Draco’s heart raced, pounding against his ribs and echoing in his ears.

The castle was taking its revenge - draining him further.

If fear, pain and anger hadn’t already pushed him to the edge of consciousness, Draco would have been impressed when the infirmary doors burst inward and smacked noisily against the walls.

As it was, he could only hold his breath as a blurry version of Severus swept into the room, with the Headmaster’s ugly teal robes following.

The burning threads of magic had reached his neck, leaving a trail of black scorch marks along his pale, perfect skin. The pain increased as the movement slowed slightly. It looked as if Severus was coming to kill him, but that mattered little as the magic slowly increased its pressure, strangling the breath from his throat.

His eyes rolled back in agony, jaw falling open in a silent wail.

There may have been other voices, shouting, but Draco’s pain tolerance had reached its limit. The blackness mercifully claimed him.

~*~

Somewhere on the trip from the dungeons to the infirmary, Severus’ grief twisted into blinding anger that begged to be released. The problem was deciding who would get the full force of it. He knew his emotions must be as clear on his face as the first light of the sun, but there was no reason to hide them now, and perhaps Poppy would wisely step out of his way once she got a good look at him. 

He turned another corner and picked up his pace, Dumbledore managing to keep up quite well for a man so advanced in years. 

When they reached the doors, his urgency grew. He lowered the protective wards himself, not waiting for Albus to give his permission, and pushed his way into the infirmary, eyes falling on the beautiful traitor who seemed to be choking.

He stormed past and heard Albus dealing with whatever was wrong with Draco.

~*~

Severus froze at the entrance to the screened-in area and held his breath, anger draining away almost instantly. He quickly studied the sleeping figure in the narrow bed. 

Harry looked like he’d just been through war. His hair was sticking to his sweaty, soot-streaked face and his eyelids were so dark they gave the illusion of bruising. He looked smaller, frail - young. Too young to have seen and lived through all that he had. Too young to have lost a child. 

He suddenly felt something pulling at him, whispering that this was the last place he wanted to be. There would be no forgiveness for him, no sweet homecoming.

“I know you’re there,” Harry whispered, eyes still closed, his voice sounding scratchy and strained.

Severus jolted and nearly toppled the screen as he flung his arm out for support. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave…”

“Did you see him?” Harry rolled to his side, face showing the pain his movement caused him.

Severus was at the bedside before he could restrain himself. “Lie still,” he pleaded. 

Harry started to shiver, turning tired green eyes to his husband. “I held him, Severus.” The shaking increased. Severus grabbed another blanket from the table beside him and draped it over the others. Harry lowered his head to the pillow and squeezed his eyes tight. “So small,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Severus couldn’t stop the unsteady hand that moved to stroke Harry’s damp hair, pushing it away from his ears and his forehead. He silently thanked Poppy for the several pain-killing and calming potions that she had administered. He doubted Harry would allow himself to be touched this way, otherwise. 

Severus’ thoughts turned to his son. “Albus said he looked…” His words fell away as his hand gently worked the tight muscles in Harry’s neck.

“Like us?” Harry drowsily offered.

“Peaceful.”

Harry half-nodded seconds before the tears and laboured breathing took over. He opened his eyes.

“Do you think there’s a heaven? I know I won’t be allowed in, but babies go, don’t they?”

Severus cupped Harry’s face, turning it with care to face him. “I’d rather not believe in a heaven that would deny you entrance.” He tried to soothe with his words, but his strength was fading and his jaw was too tight to even fake a smile. “According to Albus, our child is at rest now. My heart hopes for that to be true.”

Harry released a breath, nodded and wiped wearily at his wet face. Severus knelt beside the bed and rested his forearms on the edge. He was now eye-level with Harry who looked to be drifting off to sleep again, tears still fresh in the corners of his eyes.

This is not how this moment had played out in his mind. 

On his way to the hospital wing, Severus had prepared himself for the worst. He had imagined there would be fighting, screaming, harsh words, begging and tears. Next, he would release Harry from their bond, visit his son, and then return to his room to mourn them both.

This quiet scenario they were now sharing was better, and worse.

Harry stirred. “I can - I still feel him.” He turned his face away, pressing his palm against his forehead. 

“Shhh, rest.” Severus stroked his shoulder.

Harry looked back, eyes full of pain. “No. I should have controlled myself - I knew what my magic was doing to us.” A shaking hand hovered over his still-swollen stomach. “I can feel him kicking, hear his heartbeat, but he’s not there.” His voice broke. “I killed our son...”

Severus took Harry’s hand and pulled it close. “You will not blame yourself.” He kissed the clammy fingers. “My failure as a husband is the reason our son is dead.” Harry dropped his gaze and shook his head, a silent ‘No’ on his lips. “Yes. I forced you into an unstable state of mind. I was weak-willed and foolish.” Harry’s head fell back onto the pillow, eyelids fluttering and falling. 

The potions were taking over. 

Severus knew his time with a conscious Harry was limited. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the feverish forehead. “I understand if you never forgive me.”

Harry coughed and struggled to sit up. His hand flew up to touch the place where Severus had just kissed him. “What are you saying?” He paled for a moment, his face showing his discomfort.

“Harry, please be still. You’re hurting yourself.”

“Well, I’m not just going to lie here while you try to leave me!”

Harry’s voice bounced off the infirmary walls. Severus noticed that he could no longer hear anyone beyond the screens. They were being still to better hear the tragic couple.

Harry pointed to a table behind Severus. “Water,” he whispered, as if he’d read Snape’s mind about the eavesdroppers.

Severus got to his feet, and passed him a glass in silence, watching as he drained it. His old knees protested when he tried to kneel again, so he reached for a chair and pulled it close to the bed. He waited a moment longer before piecing the next utterance together. He didn’t want to say any of it, but there was no better time to break the bond. 

Harry deserved to be free.

He lowered his voice to a strangled whisper. “I don’t trust myself not to…” He took a breath. “You could have a better life, Harry - fly again. You could bind yourself to someone your own age, someone worthy of you.”

The glass slipped from Harry’s fingers, bounced off the edge of the mattress and landed in Severus’ waiting palm.

Harry’s jaw fell open. “Why are you saying this? I’m - we’re - I was watching! He kissed you!” Harry leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of Severus’ robes, wild eyes searching. “He kissed you, but you told him you loved _me_. Were you lying?”

The heartbreak behind Harry’s eyes made the guilt twist tighter around Severus’ heart. He wanted to run.

“No.” His hands cradled Harry’s face once more, thumbs stroking the still-damp cheeks. “Gods help me, I do love you, Harry - but Draco - he saw what I was doing to you, he was right about a good many things that I had been blind to.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and his breaths became shorter. “No. Don’t believe…”

“I was crushing you, expecting far too much of a…”

“A what?” Harry spat. “A what, Severus? A Husband? Half-blood? Orphan?” Harry gasped in pain as he fought to sit up straight and glared. 

Severus got to his feet attempting to wipe the emotion from his eyes. “I release you. You are free to find another path.” 

“You _are_ my path, Severus.” Harry cried. “I bound myself to you! Didn’t that mean anything to you?” He gasped twice and fell back against the bed, his face twisting in agony. 

“Harry.” The cold façade fell away as Severus replaced it with panic. “Please, don’t move. I’ll get Poppy.”

He turned, but a warm hand had clasped itself tightly around his wrist.

“No, I’m not done with you yet.” Harry managed to force the words through his clenched teeth.

“You need another potion. Don’t be foolish.”

“False contraction.” Harry bit down hard on his lip. “Almost…over.”

Severus’ fingers began to tingle under the pressure Harry was applying, but within moments, the grip subsided and Harry opened his eyes again. He drank slowly from the refilled glass Severus offered, and then rested back onto the warm sheets. When he caught his husband’s gaze, he held it, refusing to look away.

“I was upset when you hit me, crushed, but that’s all over now. I saw your face. You won’t do that again.”

“That is beside the point. I broke my promise to protect you, Harry. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment. I know you’d never break your word or give reason for my jealousy… but my doubts were eating at me - and Draco, I...”

“You told Draco you loved me. You refused to take what he offered because you know we belong together!” Harry slammed his fist against the covers.

“I don’t want to imagine a life without you, but you deserve better than a possessive old man. We’re nothing alike! Don’t you see the damage it’s caused?”

“I don’t want someone like me, you stupid…” Harry shook his head. “Listen to me. We’ve made our mistakes…” He bit on his lip again. “… lost our child.” He added softly. “That will never change, but I…”

Severus shuddered, but managed to remain upright, praying that Harry would just reject him quickly and be done with it. For the strong man he thought he had once been, he didn’t believe he could take much more.

Before continuing, Harry took a deep breath and manoeuvred himself gingerly back into a sitting position. “I can’t get through this alone. I need you.” He reached for his Husband’s shaking hands. Severus could only stare. “You _know_ how much I love you.” One hand slid up the black fabric and closed into a fist. He began to pull until their faces were side by side, Harry’s mouth aligned with Severus’ right ear. “I choose _you_ , Severus. Only you.”

Harry _had_ released him after all. 

He was a free man: forgiven.

Severus closed his eyes, head falling onto Harry’s lap as he sunk to his knees. The tears of relief flowed from both of them, washing the black streaks away.

“Yes. Only you,” Severus echoed.

~*~


End file.
